I giggled. “You already told me good morning with your text.”
“Well, I wanted to see for myself how my girls are doing.”
I lifted the blanket to glance at Ruthie, contentedly suckling against my breast.
“We’re good. We’re going to try a bottle around noon before we head to the appointment with the flower shop.”
He got inside a car but didn’t drive off.
“Is Lainey going to help you with that?”
“The appointment or the bottle?”
“Both.”
I shook my head. “Just the appointment. Your mom texted and asked if she could help feed her and offered to watch her while I’m gone.”
“She’s not overstepping, is she? Let me know, and I’ll tell her to back off.”
“Oh my god, no! I love that she wants to be involved. I also love that the competition seems to have spurred my mom into being more helpful. She even volunteered to go to Ruthie’s doctor’s appointment with me tomorrow.”
He frowned. “Dammit, that’s tomorrow? I wanted to go to that.”
“I’d offer to reschedule, but I don’t think they could get us in right away, and I want to make sure she gets her shots. She’s being exposed to a lot of new people, and with the wedding, there will be even more.”
“I agree, baby. She needs to be protected. Keep the appointment. I’ll go to the next one.”
“How was your flight?”
“Uneventful.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Absolutely. I hope my drive to Lancastle is equally uneventful, but with Boston traffic, I’m not optimistic.”
“That’s one thing I love about living in a small town. A traffic jam here is when Mr. Sackett’s harvester is hogging the road.”
“Lancastle must be a little more urban because I have no idea what a harvester is. Although, I think I can use my context clues and figure it out.”
“It’s a reaaaally big piece of farming equipment that harvests crops. It’s also known as a combine.”
He smiled. “I can’t wait to get stuck behind one this fall.”
I smirked in reply. “You say that now…”
“Any problems with the minivan this morning?”
“No, not at all. The car seat worked great. I was able to easily take it out, and I snapped it back in just to see if I could do it, and it was a piece of cake.”
“I’m glad.”
“Thank you again.”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me, babe. That’s what husbands are supposed to do.”
I thought about my parents’ roles. My dad was the provider and protector, and my mom was the one who kept things running smoothly.
Alan had definitely assumed the provider and protector roles, but I was a far cry from keeping things running—smoothly or otherwise.
